


isak x even | a collection of shorts

by WritenStuff



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Cute, M/M, One Shot Collection, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9439193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritenStuff/pseuds/WritenStuff
Summary: A collection of Evak shorts I didn't feel were long enough to be posted by themselves but thought some people may still be interested in reading. I'm going to add more chapters of three shorts to this as I write them. Enjoy!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up in case this post is confusing, each line break is a completely separate short. So different time/day or even universe, maybe. 
> 
> I know it might be hard to tell by the fact all of these take place in Isak's bedroom. Lol.

Even looked at himself in the mirror and rolled his shoulders before tugging at each of his sleeves where they sat a little too short at his wrists. He looked to his right where Isak sat in the middle of his bed. “Are you sure this fits me okay?” Even asked as his brow quirked in question. A smile warmed Isak’s features and he nodded. There was something satisfying about seeing his… uh, whatever they were - wearing his clothes. 

“I promise you it’s fine,” Isak replied as he left the bed and moved to the spot behind Even, where he still stood in front of the mirror. Isak ran his hands down Even’s shoulders - smoothing the crisp fabric under his palms - and smiled at Even in the mirror. “Would I lie to you?” 

Even turned his head and pressed a kissed to Isak’s cheek before softly bumping their noses, “I’d make sure you regretted it.” A smirk curled the corners of Isak’s lips and his eyes darted to Even’s lips for a split second before looking back into the depths of his blue eyes, “Oh, fighting words?” 

 

* * *

 

Isak and Even lay stretched out, facing each other on Isak’s bed. Isak laid the palm of his hand on Even’s cheek and a subtle smile tipped the corners of his mouth. Even didn’t return it but that was okay. His skin was pale, like the very life had been sucked right out of him and there was a storm in his eyes. Luckily Isak had become something of a storm chaser. He’d face that storm head on and they’d come out the other side. They  _always_  did. 

Isak leaned forward and pressed his lips to Even’s forehead as he tugged the bed covers up around him, cocooning him in. He called it the burrito strategy. He argued that nothing felt safer than being wrapped up like a burrito and even came up with some faux science to support his claim. People will believe anything if you say it with enough conviction. 

“I’m still not sure I believe the burrito strategy.” Even said, his voice no more than a croak in the stillness of the room. 

“Are you telling me how to do my job?” Isak replied, huffing incredulously. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” This time there was a note of humour in Even's voice but it soon faded and the moment passed. Even cuddled down into his cocoon and his eyes drifted shut. “Thank you” he whispered as a yawn escaped his cracked lips.  Isak took a mental note to pick up some lip balm later.

“Eh, no need. I make good money,” Isak quipped in return but Even’s breathing had already evened out. He was asleep. Isak swore he heard angels sing when he lay watching Even sleep – or well, when he watched Even do just about anything. Even after all this time he was still taken aback by his unfathomable beauty. He was a lucky fucker. A fond smile curled upon his lips and he delicately touched the soft strands of Even’s hair where they spread out upon his pillow. 

“Man of my dreams.”

 

* * *

 

Isak moved to the side of the bed and reached under, pulling out a dusty shoe box. He ran his finger tips over the label that read ‘Isak and Even: Memory by Memory’ before lifting the lid and reaching inside. After rooting around for a second he pulled out what he’d been looking for. Where it had all started - sort of.

Isak turned towards the Nordic God that sat back against his mess of pillows and extended his hand. As his fingers uncurled, a tattered white tissue sat balled up in his palm.

“You kept it?” the God, Even, spoke up as he leaned forward to get a better look. “You fucking stalker.”

 


End file.
